Motherhood Is Murder

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I was wheeled into another room. A team of doctors and nurses hovered over me. There were at least six people in the room with me.

A man dressed in scrubs stepped forward, “Mrs. Connolly, I’m Dr. Wong. As you know, we’re going to perform a gastric irrigation. You will experience minor discomfort. But the procedure is brief, after which you’ll be given activated charcoal to absorb any poison that might remain.”

Good God! Charcoal! They are going to give me charcoal!

Like briquettes?

I must have nodded because Dr. Wong said, “Good.”

“Wait, wait. My baby! Will she have to have charcoal? Irrigation?”

Dr. Wong blinked at me. “Dr. Monroe is attending to her now. Unless she starts to show severe symptoms, they’ll wait for our findings before they proceed with a treatment plan.”

Severe symptoms. What have I done!

A woman leaned over and touched my shoulder. “Kate, I’m Nancy. I’ll be assisting Dr. Wong. Try to relax and turn over onto your left side. We’ll be inserting this tube through your mouth, into the esophagus, and down to your stomach.”

Think happy thoughts. Beach thoughts. Don’t focus on the tube. I’m on the beach. The water is lapping against the sand. The air is refreshing. No. Not cold! Hot, it’s hot. I am on the beach in Hawaii. Don’t think about the tube.

The nurse sprayed a numbing agent into my mouth and down my throat. Even though it smelled like spearmint, it tasted like tin. She inserted the tube into my mouth and I experienced the most horrendous feeling as she shoved it down my throat. Like when a long noodle gets stuck in your throat and you don’t know if you need to swallow or try and hack it out.

My gag reflex kicked into high gear and I felt like I was somewhere between puking and suffocating.

This was worse than labor!

Nancy leaned in close. “You are doing great. Dr. Wong is starting the irrigation now. This will only take about ten minutes.”

Ten minutes! Oh God! I don’t have enough beach thoughts for ten minutes.

Think healthy thoughts. Healthy me. Healthy Laurie. Everyone healthy, fine, pink, happy. There. At least one minute must have gone by. Right? Only nine left.

Dr. Wong semigrunted.

What did that mean?

He watched the fluid leaving my stomach. I glanced down, causing myself to go cross-eyed and only glimpsed some rose-colored liquid. The tube was connected to a bag but I couldn’t make anything else out.

What was he grunting about?

“Good, Kate. Everything is good,” Nancy soothed.

Dr. Wong nodded.

Okay, relax. Maybe only eight minutes left.

How many seconds is that? Think 8 times 60 is . . . wait, okay 8 times 5 is 40. 40 plus 8 is 48. Good God, what had happened to my math skills? Take 48, add the 0, so 480 seconds. If I count to 480 slowly, the procedure will be done. And actually, it took me so long to do the math that probably one minute has already gone by. Oh . . . what is 7 times 60?

Nancy rubbed my arm. I tried to get back into my beach reverie, but Dr. Wong was up and moving around distracting me.

I had to swallow but with a tube in my throat, how was I supposed to do that?

Quick! Think about something else!

How many more seconds?

I watched Dr. Wong open a package and fiddle with the bag that was connected to the tube in my mouth.

Nancy squeezed my elbow. “We’re just completing the rinse and are preparing for the charcoal. More than halfway through now, honey. You’re doing fine.”

Dr. Wong handed the bag to another physician, who was focused on a monitor. He took the bag and promptly left the room.

I imagined them examining the contents for the poison in order to figure out how to treat Laurie.

Was she going to have to have this awful tube inserted?

The thought of Laurie threw me into overdrive and tears streamed down my face.

“Calm down, honey. We’re almost through here. You’re going to be fine.” Nancy patted my arm.

Trying to suppress the sobs was making my breathing speed up. But breathing fast with a tube down your throat is really difficult so I willed myself to stop panicking.

Laurie was with a doctor and Jim. Surely they were taking good care of her.

Dr. Wong prepared a syringe.

“We’re going to take a small sample of blood to send to the lab,” Nancy said as she wrapped a rubber tie around my arm.

I wanted to nod my understanding, but didn’t want to move the tube.

Screw it.

They were going to take my blood whether I nodded or not.

I hardly felt the pinprick of the needle over the tube, which seemed to be growing inside my throat. Weren’t ten minutes up yet?

After they drew the blood, Dr. Wong examined the package attached to the tube and nodded to Nancy.

She leaned over and said, “Okay, Kate, the procedure is complete. I’m going to remove the tube now. You’ll feel a little discomfort as I do this.”

“A little,” of course, turned out to be an understatement. It felt like she was ripping out my throat. What followed was a severe case of dry heaves.

Nancy rubbed my shoulder. “Yes, yes. This is normal. Take your time.”

I recovered a bit and lay down on my back. It had been the worst experience of my life, bar none.

Please, God, don’t let Laurie have to have her stomach pumped!

Dr. Wong leaned into me. “Kate, the contents of your stomach and your blood will be analyzed in the lab. We’ll be monitoring you for symptoms. I need you to try and rest as much as possible.”

I nodded.

I guessed that they would compare my results to Celia’s and Helene’s in order to figure out a treatment for Laurie. With the procedure over, I had nowhere to turn my thoughts except to Laurie.

An image of her, with all sorts of tubes attached to her tiny body, popped into my head. This image charged me with so much emotion that my heart felt like it was collapsing onto itself and suffocating me.

I prayed and wept.